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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27129805">Math with Mickey</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/floydig/pseuds/floydig'>floydig</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shameless (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-typical language, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Liam Gallagher &amp; Mickey Milkovich Bonding, M/M, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Post-Season/Series 10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:29:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>791</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27129805</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/floydig/pseuds/floydig</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey raises an eyebrow, “I know how to do math and shit. I- uh—”</p><p>His voice gets a bit quieter, rougher, “I actually kinda like that shit. Uh-Ian says...”</p><p>Mickey scowls, looks down at the floor, “He-He says I’m good at it, alright?“<br/>...<br/><br/>Mickey helps a skeptical Liam with his math homework.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ian Gallagher &amp; Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>352</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Math with Mickey</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a little baby fic that I had in my head today and wrote to procrastinate studying for biochem and GI physiology. :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“The fuck you doin’, shithead?” Mickey sits up from where he’s layin’ on his favorite overstuffed couch in front of the TV, turning his head towards the kitchen.</p><p>No, Debbie, he ain’t waiting for Ian to get home before headin’ to bed— he <em>ain’t</em>, fuck you very much. If Mickey knows for a fact that Ian gets home from his shift at 11:15 pm, so fuckin’ be it. He’s just not tired yet, that’s all. He can go to bed whenever he damn well pleases.</p><p>And yeah, so maybe it’s easier to fall asleep with Ian’s warm, strong arms around him. When he fuckin’ sniffs the back of his neck and shit and holds him close. Whispering shit like <em>love you, Mick</em>, <em>you feel so good, Mick</em>, <em>I appreciate you, Mick</em>. Lips pressin’ against his shoulder, then up to that sensitive spot behind his ear. Large hands enveloping his own, rubbing ‘em and warming ‘em up—(<em>they’re not freakishly small and dainty, asshole</em>). Weird-ass ginger alien octopus motherfucker.</p><p>Alright, maybe he <em>is</em> waiting for Ian. What-the-fuck-ever, man.</p><p> </p><p>Now fuck’s goin’ on with shithead over here?</p><p>Liam’s in the kitchen, starin’ mournfully down at the kitchen counter.</p><p>“The fuck you starin’ at the counter for?”</p><p>Liam looks over at Mickey, all sorrowful-like, “It’s my math homework.”</p><p>Mickey groans, gets up from the couch, and ambles over to the kitchen, “The fuck’s wrong with it?”</p><p>Liam looks all serious and shit, “They put me in this Algebra I class with the 7th graders. Apparently the other kids in my class feel bad when I finish two worksheets in 5 minutes and ask to leave early.”</p><p>Mickey leans against the fridge and scoffs, “Fuck ‘em. Who gives a shit.”</p><p>Liam sighs and shakes his head, “They threw me in this class two months after school’s already started. I’m super behind. Have no idea what’s going on either.”</p><p>Mickey grabs a beer from the fridge and then gestures to the dining table, “C’mon sit with me and I’ll take a look at it.”</p><p>Liam stares at Mickey doubtfully, “Uh- it’s okay, Mickey. I’ll just wait for Lip to come by.”</p><p>Mickey raises an eyebrow, “You know I got my GED, right? I know how to do math and shit. Been using numbers ever since I was four and fuckin’ Terry had me dealin.’ I- uh—”</p><p>He turns around to pick at a speck of dried food on the outside of the fridge. His voice gets a bit quieter, rougher, “I actually kinda like that shit. Uh-Ian says...”</p><p>Mickey trails off.</p><p>Now he’s got Liam all fuckin’ curious, “What does Ian say?”</p><p>Mickey turns around to face Liam and scowls, cheeks tinged a little bit pink. He looks down at the floor, still quiet, “He-He says I’m good at it, alright? Like the numbers and shit. I don’t know, man, that’s just what he says.”</p><p>Liam’s eyes widen and then narrow slightly, eyebrows furrowed, “You ever done systems of equations?”</p><p>Mickey’s shoulders relax and he smirks, “Love that shit. Whole lotta practical application too. C’mon I’ll show ya.”</p><p>Liam grabs his homework and follows Mickey over to the table.</p><p>Mickey continues, “You got a pencil, shithead? Let me show you...”</p><p>...</p><p>And when Ian arrives home that night, the first thing he hears is, “So then you just solve for x by moving all the other shits over to this side of the equal sign. See what I mean? Now the fucker is all by itself. So you take all the other shit that you just moved over. Put it into the other equation in the place of x and solve for y.”</p><p>“Oh ok! When you put it like that, it makes more sense. My teachers at school say stuff like ‘isolate the variable’ and ‘substitution’ and ‘elimination’ and they get all jumbled up in my head.”</p><p>“Yeah it’s not too fuckin’ bad when you put in more simple terms. Teachers complicate this shit too much. Now you teach it back to me; that’ll help ya learn the shit. So go on, show me how to do this next one.”</p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>“I’m proud of you, Mick,” Ian whispers as he drapes warm, strong arms around Mickey. He presses his lips to the back of his neck and inhales pure <em>Mickey</em>.</p><p>“Fuck-ever, snuffles,” Mickey murmurs. He doesn’t—<em>doesn’t</em>— take Ian’s hand and wrap it around his own, curling up just a bit closer to the warm octopus motherfucker.</p><p>Ian smiles against Mickey’s back, “You scootin’ closer to me?”</p><p>Mickey’s got a small, lopsided smile of his own going on, “You gotta problem with that, tough guy?”</p><p>“Just thinkin’ bout how my hand is twice the size of yours.”</p><p>“Oh fuck off, asshole.”</p><p>“Love you.”</p><p>“Love you too.”</p>
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